The Buchanan Chronicles
by MadMaxofHazardUs
Summary: Short stories based around the Lone Wanderer's exploits. Note: This doesn't follow the main quest, this only details certain adventures/encounters that occur. There is no specific order, and I will write them as I see fit.
1. The Power of the Atom

-1_Author's Note: I love Fallout 3. Bethesda did an incredible job in creating a realistic wasteland, as well as creating interesting locals and characters. Although there aren't as many quests as Oblivion, I'm still satisfied with the overall product. One quest, though, really tested my morality, and that was a certain quest you pick up in Megaton. I'm now going to present to everyone a short story of that quest, told my own way._

The Power of the Atom

It's not everyday you get to see your life change before you in such a blatant way. It's also not everyday that your father goes missing; on top of that, it's not everyday that you escape from your own Vault in search of your father. Guess it's that day.

My name is Scott Buchanan, I'm nineteen years old, and all I have to call my own as I left Vault 101 was a ten-millimeter pistol, a BB gun I had received on my tenth birthday, the jumpsuit on my back, and the necessary ammo for each weapon. Many had said that I'd be like my father; they couldn't have been farther from the truth. I didn't give a fuck about scientific pursuits, though I will say that I'm smart. Smarter than you may give me credit for. It's not that I hate the areas of science; they just don't interest me. However, I won't disrespect my father for doing what he loves.

I had picked up a love for firearms and explosives about a year after my tenth birthday, when I first got my hands on the BB gun. I had always lusted to see the outside world; the Overseer had said to us that it was too dangerous to go outside…but somehow, I couldn't help but feel that he was exaggerating. Little did I know until recently that my suspicions were correct. The broadcasts the Overseer had received told of a world gone completely mad, with looting, violence, murder, and mutated creatures and people everywhere. A genuinely scary world, you would conclude. So I wasn't surprised that he had the balls to kill one of my dad's friends, then me. For that little bit of dumb judgment, I put a bullet in his brain. Amata, my friend and the Overseer's daughter, wasn't too happy with me. Oh well, I thought, he tried to kill me. He had it coming. I don't take kindly to being pushed, nor do I like having to wait for answers. My father said it would get me killed one day.

As I surveyed my surroundings from the top of a cliff, with a sign that appropriately said "Scenic Overlook", I saw not a looter in sight. No one jumped out to stab me, no shambling horror charged me to rip my flesh off. No, what I saw was complete and utter devastation of the land around me. The ground was cracked, and broken in many places. Off in the distance, I could spot an overpass once used for traffic; entire sections had fallen off.

Down below, a little ways to the north, was a collection of partially destroyed houses. I searched for a means of climbing down from this perch, and found a dirt incline to my right. Another handy thing I had received as a birthday gift was my Pip-Boy 3000. This miniature computer, strapped to my left wrist, could do anything. It kept track of my current health, stamina, strength, and mental acuteness on one screen. On the next screen, it kept track of what I was carrying and wearing (I don't know how it did this, but I assumed that the Pip-Boy had a sensor in it that scanned my entire person). Lastly on the third screen was a map of the Capital Wasteland (which was what the entire area inside and outside of Washington D.C. was called). If I explored enough, various locations would automatically be added to the map to show where I've been. It also contained a Geiger counter and a built-in radio. Pretty nifty.

I walked down the road toward the collection of houses I had seen, my right hand idly hovering near my pistol. I heard the sound of a cash register opening down below me, so I looked down at my Pip-Boy. Apparently this little place was named Springvale. It didn't look like anyone was even trying to live here. Various Corvega cars were littered up and down the street, their missing tires ensuring that they would never run again. I had to be careful; from what I had learned from being in the Vault, these cars had a small nuclear reactor in the trunk which was used to power them. If I got into a firefight and the Corvegas got hit…well, the results would either be spectacular or the cause of my death.

As I reached an intersection at the end of the rows of houses, I looked to my left and spotted a relatively intact house on a nearby hill. Making haste, I soon found myself on the porch, then I found myself opening the door and going in, my pistol raised.

The inside of the house was rather small, as I found myself in a kitchen. Just beyond the doorway before me I could see the corner of a dresser…and footsteps. I raised my pistol, about to fire, but I was greeted by the presence of a woman.

Her skin was tan, and she had a part on the left side of her head, which made all of her hair lay on the right side. It was silver, and for some reason, it made her very attractive in my eyes. Her clothing was faded and bleached, and she had what looked to be a revolver on her hip. God only knows if she could shoot well, but if given the chance, I'd have fucked her.

"Who the hell are you?!" she exclaimed, reaching for her revolver. "Where did you come from? Did Moriarty send you?"

Instantly I lowered my pistol and put it in its holster so to appear less threatening, but I couldn't get rid of the puzzled look I must've had on my face. Nevertheless, this woman's gun was trained on my neck. "Wait, slow down. First off, I thought this place was abandoned, hence why I entered. You should've had a sign out front or something. What's your name?"

"Name's Silver," she replied. It was easy to see why she was given the name as I looked at her hair again. "I won't ask again, did Moriarty send you?"

For some reason, and I wish I knew why, I lied. Whenever somebody sends someone to a certain place, it usually has to do with caps (the currency used, so I had learned in the Vault). "Yes, he did."

The look on her face became more twisted in anger, and she shouted, "That bastard can go fuck himself for all I care! He isn't going to find me, nor get my caps."

Yet again, for some reason, I felt a need to know more, as well as a need to acquire some caps. Maybe I could bluff my way through it. "Wait, wait…tell me your side of the story."

Silver relaxed and put her revolver back in its holster. "Alright, well, it's good you're not trying to kill me. Please, have a seat."

We took seats on opposite sides of the table in her kitchen, and she began to explain about a man I had never met, and how she used to do drugs and sell her body. During the exchange, I had quietly extracted my pistol and had it trained on her stomach. Apparently she still owed Moriarty, and then an idea came to mind.

"How about you give me the caps and I won't mention you to him?" I asked fairly.

Silver smiled. "Oh, you'd do that for me? Thanks…I appreciate it." She reached into a cloth bag on her waist and began to extract what…well, it was around 300 caps from what I could tell. When she was finally done, I had to suppress a smile from having cheated her out of her money. What kept me from even smiling though was the fact that I could still hear caps jingling in the bag.

"I need it all," I said, a hint of menace in my voice.

"What?" she asked in alarm. "But I--"

She never got to finish her sentence, and what seemed like an evil, otherworldly force came over me, as I squeezed the trigger three times. Part of me was torn about what I had just done, and the other part was a devil telling me "fuck the others, you got to live for you and only you." In the silence of the room, the sudden gunshots were deafening. Silver cried out as the bullets entered her stomach. Her head bounced off the table top as her body slid off the chair, hitting the floor.

With utmost haste, I removed the revolver from its holster to examine it. It looked like a .32, a peashooter compared to my own. I put the gun in the sink, and extracted the bullets. With a firm grip, I tore Silver's shirt in half, revealing decent-sized breasts. I had to see them; whether she was dead or alive didn't matter. The blood dripping down her stomach was starting to pool, and when I rolled her onto her right side, the left was covered in her blood.

However, she was whimpering…how was she still alive? I wondered. I shrugged, and shot her in the head; she didn't need to suffer anymore than she probably already had. Surprisingly, there wasn't much blood from the head wound. A small part in me wondered how I was going to live with myself, but the way I saw it, the ends justified the means.

I daintily removed the cloth bag from her hip and poured the remaining caps on the table…she had shorted me by a hundred. Satisfied, I shoveled the 400 caps into the bag and tied it on my own waist, careful to make sure I hadn't gotten any blood on me.

As I walked outside onto the porch, the coldness of what I had just done came to mind. I didn't feel any remorse or sympathy for the life I had just ended. Maybe it was the fact that she used to be a prostitute and a junkie; I don't know. I tried to shrug it off as I walked back to the intersection. A large sign with an arrow pointing toward the other road read "Megaton"…which to me sounded like a town, and a likely place where I could find my father. Holstering the pistol, I began to run, caps and ammo jingling on my hip.

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As I passed through the massive double sliding doors of Megaton, courtesy of a Protectron robot named Deputy Weld, I was taken slightly aback by the scale of the town. Just from my view up on the hill, there seemed to be a lot of buildings, most likely houses and trading outlets. Before I could descend the hill, a dark-skinned man in a olive shirt, tan slacks, and a cowboy hat rapidly approached me.

His gait was slow, but quick; he wanted to see who the new arrival was. Upon closer examination, I noticed he had a thick black beard and moustache as well as what looked to be an AK-102 knock-off. I would know. Even so, this man looked like he had seen combat, and I wouldn't want to cross paths with him.

"Greetings, boy," the man said in a friendly tone. "Name's Lucas Simms. I'm the sheriff, and sometimes mayor, of Megaton. Who are you and what brings you here?"

Well, Mr. Simms, I just murdered a woman in cold-blood right outside of Springvale, and I got the hell out of there so I wouldn't have to think about it. In all honesty, I want to confess…but I keep telling myself that she deserved it. In my eyes, if you couldn't make your way in a honest profession, then why waste your time? She had been a whore and a junkie…whether it was drugs, I don't know. I knew virtually nothing of the world outside of the Vault. But instead of voicing my guilty conscience, I simply said, "I recently escaped from Vault 101."

A mild look of surprise appeared on Sheriff Simms' face, followed by a smile. "A Vault Dweller, huh? We don't get many of those around here. Follow me down wind, let's talk a bit."

I walked next to Lucas Simms as we made our way down the hill towards the center of the town. As we neared the bottom, I noticed a peculiar sight: in a small pool of water, most likely irradiated, was an odd oval-shaped device with fins sticking out. It looked like a miniature submarine, so said the holotapes from the Vault…Dad was always so interested about such things. But, if that's what I think it was…

"Sheriff, is that a…?"

The dark-skinned man raised a finger, seemingly to hush me, as he spoke quietly. "Atomic bomb? Yes, it is. It failed to detonate when the Great War occurred. It's been here ever since. Megaton is only fifty years old."

Lucas and I stared at the bomb for a few minutes. "Um, is it still active…?"

A nod. "Very much so, but only a few of the residents know that. It's a closely-guarded secret and if somebody…let's say, less than noble were to learn of it, well, they might use it to their advantage."

"That makes sense," I replied. For some reason, the back of my neck felt cold despite the sweltering heat. I had no idea why that was, but I shrugged it off as my guilty conscience. I steered the conversation in another direction, wanting to know if Lucas knew anything about my dad. Not surprisingly, he didn't, his reason being that he couldn't keep track of every single person but to try Moriarty's Saloon up on the highest tier of Megaton.

Hearing that name, and seeing a helpful finger aimed in its direction, I almost choked. What the hell was going on?! Did everyone somehow _know_ what I had done?!

_Calm down, Scott, it's just a coincidence. It's the local watering hole; everyone goes there._

With that, I climbed on top of the roof of the Megaton Clinic, and made my way across the confusing pathways of Megaton toward the top. I stood outside the door, mentally preparing myself. With a deep sigh, I pushed through the door with my fist.

Inside, the saloon was dimly lit and for a few seconds, everyone stopped to look at me, the new arrival, the stranger in town, and I looked back thinking, _Stop fucking staring at me! _

Ironically, everyone instantly went back to doing what they had been before I entered, but before I could ask for Moriarty, a man in a grey business suit, hat, and glasses was making hand gestures from the right side of the tavern. At first I thought the man was drunk and I simply ignored him, but as I took a few steps toward the bar, the gestures increased in frequency, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed it was _me_ he was beckoning. Nervous, but intrigued, I walked over.

"My, my," the mysterious man began in a semi-menacing, odd cadence. "Just when I had all but given up hope. My dear boy, I am very happy to make your acquaintance."

"And who might you be?" I asked, suddenly on guard and weary of the man's hidden motives. I knew he had them; everyone did.

"I am Mr. Burke," he replied with a smile as odd as his cadence. "And you, well, you are not a resident of this putrescent cesspool. That makes you a rather valuable individual."

The way this Burke character referred to Megaton as a 'putrescent cesspool' offended me, even though I wasn't even a resident. "Look, if you've got a point, make it."

A frown, followed by a nod. "Very well. I represent certain…interests. And those interests view this town, this…'Megaton'--" He said that with particular disgust, as if a foul smell had crept in his nose. "--as a blight on a burgeoning urban landscape."

Mr. Burke leaned forward and put his left forearm on his left knee. "You have no connections here. No interest in this cesspool's affairs, or fate. You could assist us in erasing this little accident off the map."

My eyes widened. "Wait, you're going to destroy the town?"

"Indeed. The undetonated atomic bomb for which this town is named is still very much alive. All it needs is a little motivation." He smiled after placing particular emphasis on 'motivation.' The conversation carried on for a few more minutes, and I was about ready to draw my pistol when Burke mentioned getting paid. Instantly, I perked up. Five hundred caps was a lot.

"Double it, and I'll even take care of the sheriff for you," I said, taking a risk.

Mister Burke grinned this time. "Excellent! I had a feeling about you. Here's the Fusion Pulse Charge. It needs to be installed inside the bomb. When you are done, meet me at Tenpenny Tower and you'll be paid. It's southwest of here, well out of harm's way. You can't miss it. Questions?"

I shook my head, and quietly put this Fusion Pulse Charge in the bag with my caps. After that, Mr. Burke got up and left. With the caps I had from…Silver…I talked to a man named Gob, who was actually a Ghoul. I purchased a room, and contemplated getting some sleep, but first I needed to buy some supplies. When Burke had mentioned Tenpenny Tower, a marker on the Pip-Boy appeared on the map indicating its location. It would be a long trek. I also had to assume that Burke himself or an accomplice would watch me put the Pulse Charge on the bomb. I'd make them sweat it out.

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Around midnight, I woke up in my bed at Moriarty's and quickly but quietly made sure I was ready. I wanted to make sure no one would see me rig the bomb, and doing it so late would ensure that everyone would be asleep.

With everything I would need strapped to me, including a fresh suit of combat armor (I had sold my Vault 101 jumpsuit at The Craterside Supply), I made my way down the metal catwalks to the center of town. Standing in the pool of water that the bomb was buried in, I quickly detached a panel on the side of the bomb and began working my magic. My skill with explosives paid off, and I was able to rig the bomb in under ten minutes, all the while making sure I wasn't being watched.

With that taken care of, I proceeded to Lucas Simms' house. It was at the front of town near the main gates, and I picked the lock on the door and crept in. I had a deal to keep. My conscience was clean.

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My trek across the wasteland was fraught with peril; at every turn something had tried to kill me, be it dogs, scorpions, and little bands of raiders. However, it was during an incursion with the raiders that I acquired a silencer for my ten-millimeter. The thought of silently eliminating threats pleased me.

After heading southwest for five hours, a large building seemingly loomed out of the wasteland. It seemed so out of place, looking like it had been preserved since the Great War--I don't know, though I did know that it was Tenpenny Tower.

As I neared the large hotel, I circled around the perimeter until I was at the main gate…which was closed, most likely because of a heated argument between a Ghoul and a faintly-Hispanic voice through an intercom.

"I'll show you!" the Ghoul yelled. "I'll show you all, goddamn it!" He stomped away with the ferocity of a large beast.

Slowly I approached the intercom the Ghoul had been shouting in to, and pressed the button. "Hello?"

The Hispanic voice came on a second later. "I thought I told you: no rotten, stinkin' ass Ghouls allowed!"

Well, this guy seems like a real asshole. If that's how he wants to play…

"Is that how you treat all your fucking guests? And do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

The reply came back, but a little longer than the first time. "Er, sorry. Tenpenny Tower has a strict policy against Ghouls staying at the Tower. Gotta enforce that."

I shook my head. Bigots too? Oh well, no one's perfect. All I care about are the caps. "I'm here to see Mr. Burke."

"Well, shit, why didn't you say so? Hold on…"

Three seconds later the gates swung open and I hustled inside. I was now in the inner courtyard, noticing a few tables and chairs spread about, as well as a sprinkling of guards. I could understand the need for security, but something felt weird about it nonetheless.

The man with the Hispanic voice was now facing me. "Burke's expecting you. Just head in to the lobby and take the elevator behind the reception desk to the top floor."

All I did was nod. With that out of the way, I trotted through the main door, taking in the luxuries that these people all had. It must be nice to live comfortably, never having to live in a Vault for your whole life. They would understand soon enough how much they take their existence for granted.

I marched past the desk and took the elevator all the way up. As I stepped out of the elevator car, I turned left and saw a guard sitting next to a table. My heart raced briefly at that point, and I almost reached for my pistol, but stopped. I stated my business, and the guard picked up a key off the table. I followed him just around the corner and stepped through the open door.

The view…my God, the view was _incredible_! For miles around, I could see the entire wasteland. Despite the devastation, it was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen…strange as they may sound. Out on the balcony was Mr. Burke, who was facing toward the direction Megaton was in, and an old man off to my right wearing white pants and a red velvet vest. A large sniper rifle was attached to his back and he sat comfortably in a chair, staring in the same direction Burke was.

Comfortably? Yes. I could see it in his eyes, and the slight tug of a smile on each side of his lips. His clothing style reminded him of something an officer in an army might've worn…like a Redcoat. Could this be Tenpenny? I shook my head. It mattered not.

I approached Mr. Burke, who turned to face me. He took my hand in his to shake it, all the while smiling. I smiled too, but not for the reasons he probably harbored.

"Thank you for coming with such haste," Mr. Burke said. "The pulse charge is rigged?"

"Yes," I replied, nodding for further emphasis. Burke's eyes seemed to glaze over in the way a drug addict's did upon seeing their vice.

"Excellent…_excellent_!" he nearly shouted, so sudden that it had made me jump a little.

Mr. Burke seemed to have realized that his…strange demeanor was showing through. He took a deep breath, then exhaled it quietly. "Ah…the anticipation is palpable. Isn't it?"

I shrugged. To me, this was just a job…but I smiled. I knew something he didn't, and that's how I knew I would succeed. This was my time, my moment, possibly my own fate. All decided right here. A part of me was afraid of what would happen, but I was confident in my skill with explosives to know that it would work. It _had_ to work. Otherwise I would be damned.

"When you've finished…savoring the moment," Burke continued, who seemed like he was having trouble containing excitement in his voice, "you may have the honor of pressing the button. Oh, and mind your eyes. It'll be brighter…than bright."

With those final words, Mr. Burke turned back toward Megaton. The sun was slowly beginning to creep above the horizon, casting the beginnings of shadows across the balcony. I flipped the small suitcase-like device on the nearby table open, and many lights flashed and pulsed across it. The switch was in the middle. All I had to do was pull it down.

I set my grip on the switch with my left hand, with my right hand idling at my side. I quickly glanced over toward Tenpenny, his gaze incredibly entranced by the impending explosion. All I could do was take a deep breath, smile, and pull the switch.

Mr. Burke couldn't contain himself, and he leapt towards the balcony railing, gripping it tightly in both hands. In my peripheral vision, I saw Tenpenny lean toward the balcony also, but he didn't stand up.

After a few more seconds, though, Mr. Burke's death grip loosened up, confused as to why it hadn't blown up. He turned to look at me, but before he could do anything, I already had my pistol out and unleashed a three-round burst into his gut. _Always aim for center of mass,_ my father had told me. _This will ensure that you hit your target._

The shock was clearly visible in Burke's eyes; he hadn't expected this outcome. He tried to reach for his own pistol, but instead he started to fall sideways away from the balcony, clutching his bleeding stomach. He groaned in pain, which alerted Tenpenny behind me. I knew it did because the old British gentleman behind me shouted "What brutality! Guards!"

The old man was quick, slinging his sniper rifle off his back and into his hands. I cursed, knowing I wouldn't be able to take him out before he shot it--all I could do was crouch as low as possible. My quick thinking saved me; right as I ducked, I could feel the .308 caliber bullet rush above my head at an ungodly speed, where I had just been. The crack of the sniper rifle was loud, and there went my chance for a clean escape.

Still crouched, I emptied six rounds into Tenpenny's body, hitting him in the stomach and groin, but a fatal shot to the neck sealed his fate. The old British owner dropped his sniper rifle as he clawed at his neck, trying to stop the flow of blood from killing him. In doing so, he lost his balance and stumbled over the railing, screaming as he fell to his death. A faint crunch confirmed what had just happened, as I looked over the railing and saw the body impaled on the makeshift fence below, then slowly slide off onto the other side. I breathed a sigh of relief: maybe they wouldn't find his body.

Well, fooling Burke's man had worked. I had made sure to rig the pulse charge in such a way as to make it look like it was ready to detonate, but actually activating it would've done nothing. I smiled with my accomplishment…Silver hadn't really deserved to die, but Burke and Tenpenny did. They had planned to murder an entire town of innocents; I wasn't going to have let that happen. Maybe in return for my deed Silver could rest peacefully.

I was about to say a silent prayer when a sharp pain entered my left side, taking me by so much surprise that I lost balance and fell into the table. I looked to my left, and Mr. Burke had managed to clear his own weapon and shoot a bullet into me! And his own weapon was silenced as well!

With nothing else left to do, I dropped on my back and unleashed the rest of my magazine into Burke's head, leaving only a partial bloody stump in place. I'm thankful I had bought the body armor; it deflected the bullet well, and the only injury I had suffered was shortness of breath, which I slowly regained.

I popped a fresh magazine into my pistol, and quickly pulled out a thousand caps from Burke's bloody, bullet-riddled corpse and pocketed them. Just as I was about to make my exit, the guard who had been inside the door came out with his gun blazing. This time, I managed to roll behind a pillar and saw an opening to shoot him from.

However, fate seemed to favor us both, for we both shot each other at the same time; my bullet hit him in the head, and his hit me in the neck. I was propelled out of my crouching stance, and my hand shot automatically to one of the stimpacks I had strapped on my body.

I could feel blackness start to creep into my vision; I had to work faster. I took the syringe out of its white box, and stabbed it into my neck, depressing the plunger. Instantly, I could feel the bleeding stop and my vision become sharper--the pain was decreasing less as well.

I had cheated death twice…but I still felt weak. I quickly barred the double doors the guard had come through with the table and Tenpenny's chair. Then I crawled down the short stairs, around the corner out of sight from the balcony's view, and lay on my back.

Feeling the caps in the bag on my waist, I holstered my pistol and grinned. Then I started to laugh, gradually becoming longer and more crazy. Lucas Simms will be pleased.


	2. The Power of the Atom Alternate Ending

-1_Author's Note: This is for those people who want a different ending then the one presented. It's up to you which one you like better; please let me know in a review, and let me know what you think of the story overall if you haven't. It goes a long way to helping me improve where I'm weak. Thanks!_

The Power of the Atom - Alternate Ending

I had cheated death twice…but I still felt weak. I crawled down the stairs, rolling on my back and staring at the sky. Thankfully, the bullet had only grazed my neck and not penetrated fully--if that had been the case, even my own application of the stimpack probably wouldn't have saved me. However, I couldn't just lay here--sooner or later, Tenpenny's guards would come looking. With a deep breath, I launched myself upward and got to my feet.

Pocketing the dead guard's ammunition, I put my back against one of the double doors, then pushed the other one open with my left hand, my silenced pistol aimed forward. I swept the corridor in a half-crouch, turning in all directions to cover my blind spots. Feeling secure that the penthouse level was clear, I walked toward the elevator, but the doors suddenly parted, and a guard with a ten-millimeter submachine gun looked very surprised to see me. His gun was very similar to the Russian-made Skorpion, a deadly little weapon that would fuck up your day in a hurry.

The guard's gun was already raised, and mine was pointed at the floor…aha! Using the guard's brief moment of confusion, I flicked my wrist and shot my arm up and forward. A few seconds later, the gun smacked the guard square in the face, breaking his nose. He stumbled and hit the back of the elevator car, which allowed me to close the distance between us.

Grabbing the guard's shoulders, I kneed him in the groin and he instantly collapsed in pain; this provided the unique opportunity to slam his head against the wall, and the guard was out cold. A silenced bullet to the back of the head sealed the deal.

Had it been overkill? Admittedly, yes, but it was necessary. He wouldn't be getting up--it was one less threat to deal with. Fuck 'em. He tried to kill me. This guy knew the risks of being a mercenary, since that was what he undoubtedly was. If he hadn't known what his employer did, that wasn't my problem.

What _was_ my problem was how I was going to escape. Tenpenny's vitals were probably monitored somewhere in the building; the guard wouldn't have been sent up otherwise. That meant…shit! This elevator was the only way down! Most likely there would be some sort of ambush in the lobby.

I looked up at the top of the car…and smiled. I picked up the guard's SMG and ammo, as well as my silenced pistol, then put my foot on one of the brass rails. I touched the top and it felt…like drywall? How strange. Shrugging, I unloaded half of a clip in a section of the ceiling, and pieces of it started breaking away. Seeing this, I punched the drywall as hard as I could, and soon I had a nice hole to climb through. I holstered the pistol, reloaded the SMG, and thumbed the 'down' button on the elevator. The car jerked, and slowly began to descend. Launching off the brass rail, I grabbed hold of the hole I had created, and hoisted myself up.

"Gustavo to Ramirez, report," a vaguely Hispanic voice said in the car below. Curious, I peered over the edge of the hole down at the guard's body. "Ramirez, come in!…Ramirez!"

Shit! That Hispanic guy I had seen earlier must've been head of security…Gustavo, huh? This would be interesting.

"Donaldson, wait by the elevator and see if Ramirez comes down," Gustavo radioed in to presumably another guard. "Let's not alert Tenpenny's patrons. If he's there, come outside. Tenpenny's killer only has one way out. We'll show him who he's fucking with."

They must've been communicating by walkie-talkie on a channel where all the guards could hear. A second later, Donaldson replied: "You got it."

The time was near, and I wondered what would happen next. Glancing at my Pip-Boy, I saw that it was around noon, and the tower's guests would be having lunch. Would I have enough bullets? Possibly. If the tower had a so-called 'No Ghoul' policy, Tenpenny had been a bigot…which meant that the guests were as well. In my eyes, bigots were just as bad as mass-murderers. But what did that make me? I killed Silver in cold-blood…wasn't I accountable…no, that was different. I shook my head, stuffing that thought deeper inside of me, and instead focused on the task ahead. There would be time for philosophical thoughts later.

The elevator stopped at the bottom--an audible _ping_ was the indicator. I could see a man's shadow just outside of the car, rapidly approaching the car. Soon after, I saw a man with dirty blond buzzed hair below me standing over Ramirez. Not wanting to give him time to report to Gustavo, I stood on top of the car and jumped down through the hole with as much force as I could muster. Donaldson was caught completely off guard, letting out a groan as I landed feet first on his back. He was a big motherfucker, and I was less so, and he was struggling underneath my combat boots--if he threw me off, I was done. So like Ramirez, I emptied two rounds into his cranium and he stopped writhing.

Honestly, I didn't even know I was capable of such malicious brutal acts of violence, but I balanced the shock of what I was doing with the idea that these guys were trying to kill me, and I had to do what I needed to in order to survive. Oh, and they were most likely bigots, too.

Looking up, I found myself behind the reception desk and no one had seemed to notice me--they probably thought another guest had fallen over. I grinned. They were so wrong. I holstered my pistol, and brought up the SMG. What happened next was my anger manifesting, and when that happens, it's uncontrollable.

In front of the desk was the entrance, and a male patron in a vest and khaki pants was idling about. I jumped over the desk with my left hand, landing and rolling into position, and unleashed a five-round burst into the man's body. He jerked and writhed on the floor, whimpering, until I put him down for good. I heard various screams coming off to my right, both male and female, and before I could run over to their doorway to silence them, a tanned woman in a pink dress came running out.

She literally skidded to a halt, slipping but managing to catch herself, and tried to zoom away behind the staircases near by. Without even aiming, I shot at her legs, and was rewarded with her falling and crashing face-first into the ground, fucking up her pretty little face. I ran over and kicked her in the ribs for good measure.

I was mad. How can people like this even exist? How can somebody hate someone who's skin and face may not have been the most attractive, but was just as human as they were? What if these _fucking bigots_ were in their place? How would they feel then? Simply put, they would never know nor would ever want to know, because their stupid ignorant asses were clouded with notions of perceived high status, which was really arrogance. Nobody likes arrogance. This bitch was probably no different. Fuck her.

As I was about to turn around, I was greeted with an elderly Asian gentleman trying to claw my face, albeit unsuccessfully. With a loud growl, I shoved the barrel of my SMG into his gut and let lose. When he was finally dead, I pushed him to the side, walked through the doorway, and sprayed both what looked to be a store and a café with bullets. Body after body fell and the walls and floors were decorated with blood, and it left a most gratifying feeling within me. Bigots were not needed in this world--well, they were, so somebody else could kill them. I just happened to be the administrator of justice for these poor, pathetic souls.

All that stood before me now were the guards outside in the courtyards, and they wouldn't be so easy to cut down. As best as I could remember, there had been two pillars opposite the door outside, with a plant pot in front of each.

Reloading my SMG, I stood before the double doors and took a deep breath. Here we go. I kicked the center of the doors, flinging them both open and the bullets started flying as soon as they did so. I slid behind the right pillar, and waited for a lull in the shooting. When it finally came, I pushed it out from behind cover and dove to the other pillar. In the few seconds I was exposed, I counted six guards plus Gustavo, and my bullets sent them all scrambling for cover by lines of sandbags as well as the fountain in the middle.

When I hit the other pillar, I popped onto my feet, and ran down the center spraying with the ten-millimeter SMG. The feeling seemed otherworldly, like everything around me was moving slower--damn, there must be a hell of an adrenalin rush going through me. I reached the fountain, and grabbed hold of the center, using it to swing around and kick one of the guards in the jaw. As that guard's body was falling, I flew over it and emptied the remaining rounds into two more guards. As I touched down, I hurled the SMG at another, using that distraction to pull out my pistol.

Circling the fountain in a low crouch, I picked off the remaining three guards with an entire clip, leaving Gustavo. I saw him draw his weapon and begin to sprint towards the main gates, but after quickly reloading, I fired a bullet towards his left leg. It hit the mark right below his left buttock, and he fell. I ran up to him, flipped him over on his back, and put a knee to his chest.

"How does it feel to know that everything you've worked for went to shit in the past few minutes?" I screamed, almost incoherently.

Gustavo only stared; it was the coldest stare I had ever received in my life up to this point. "Fuck you…do what you need to do."

He spit on me, further provoking me into action, which I was all too glad to carry out. I put my pistol right to against his Adam's apple and pulled the trigger. His hands immediately clawed at his neck as I went about collecting magazines and weapons from the dead guards to use to repair my weapons. In the process, I found lots of ammo for my pistol as well as an assault rifle and 5.56mm ammunition.

000000000000000

When I arrived back at Megaton in the early evening, I was unexpectedly greeted by the entire town. The most pleased of all, however, was Lucas Simms. Everyone cheered and clapped, hollered and hooted, and for a brief amount of time it felt good knowing I had made a difference.

"Boy, you've done good," Lucas roared over the loud cheering. "You eliminated a threat from our town, and for that you have Megaton's sincerest thanks and gratitude. I also have some things to give you."

With a wave of his hand, Lucas dispersed the ground and people went back to their lives. For them, the excitement was over. Lucas then motioned with his hand for me to follow him. We walked up a set of arbitrary steps to the left, and it curved up and right to a rather large house.

We stood before the door to this structure, and the sheriff handed me a bag full of caps. "Here's a cap reward for disarming the bomb."

I looked inside the small bag, and estimated the amount to be around one hundred caps. Coupled with the thousand I plucked from Mr. Burke's corpse, I was sitting pretty right about now. "Sheriff, you didn't really--"

The older man smiled, tugging on his beard. "You did a very brave thing…Scott, right?" A nod. "You have to understand, Scott. These people, my people who I've sworn to protect, have been living in fear since the time this town was constructed fifty years ago. I didn't tell the residents that the bomb had still been ticking until just recently, after you left last night.

"Right after you broke into my house to inform me of your plan, which I forgive you for doing, I immediately went out to check on the bomb. Sure enough, one of Burke's men was down there seemingly tampering with the bomb, but I didn't want to take the chance, so I knocked him out with Ol' Stainless here, and threw him in the Armory with Deputy Steel until further notice."

Sheriff Simms patted the Chinese Assault Rifle on his back and smiled. He seemed to be really happy and relaxed…no, more likely relieved that there wasn't a threat to his town anymore.

"Well, at least that's taken care of. You wouldn't believe what I had to do…" I explained in detail for several minutes my adventures at Tenpenny Tower, minus the part where I gunned down the tower's guests in a psychotic angry rage. I figured it best to leave that absent--I didn't need the sheriff to look down on me.

"God_damn_, that's one hell of a story, son. But you know what, they had it coming. They planned to massacre my town, _my_ people, in such a horrifying brutal way…it was justice served for them to be repaid in kind. Which reminds me…"

Lucas fished around inside his trousers for something, and finally produced a worn key and a faded piece of paper. He placed it in the palm of my hand and all I could do was just stare. "What's this?"

He motioned his head in the direction of the building we were standing next to. "Your very own house. No need to pay a rent or worry about sleeping in some Raider stronghold and being stabbed in the back. It's a bit bare on the inside, but you can purchase items from Moira at The Craterside Supply if need be. You also get your own personal butler, a Mr. Handy robot named Wadsworth."

My face positively beamed with joy. Of all the possible outcomes, this was one I hadn't expected. I almost grabbed Sheriff Simms in a bear hug, but thought better of it. Instead, I grinned broadly and extended my hand, and Lucas took it in return. "Thank you. This means a lot to me, and I'm glad I could help you guys out."

"It's not a problem," Lucas said with a nod. "But look, I got to resume my duties. If you need anything, though, I'll be patrolling the town." With that, the dark-skinned man walked around the corner of my house and down the causeway toward the front of the town.

I stuffed the parchment paper into the breast pocket on my combat armor, and placed the key into the lock. I opened the door and shut it, happy as hell to have a place of my own. Wadsworth floated down the stairs and came over to me.

"Ah, good morning sir!" the robot said in a British accent. "I'm your personal butler, Wadsworth. I can do virtually anything you ask, within reason. I can give you a haircut, tell you a joke, or how to spruce up this old dusty pad. If you want a drink, I will supply you with some of the cleanest water in all the Wasteland."

I took a seat in a nearby chair, laying all of my gear on the tabletop. On the long trek back to the town from Tenpenny Tower, I had done a lot of thinking, and had come to the conclusion that everything happens for a reason. Silver's death was part of fate, _my_ fate, and that couldn't have been avoided. Maybe she would've understood that. That's what I told myself in any case.

"Wadsworth, I'd like some water and a joke, please."

The robot seemed to whir and shift, and then a bottled of purified water shot from the top of the robotic frame at me. I caught with my right hand, popped the top, and took a sip. I smacked my lips approvingly; it was some of the best damned water I ever had.

"Two cannibals are eating a clown, one turns to the other and says 'does this taste funny to you?'"


End file.
